Fantasy Out Of Control Ch. 06

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the sixth chapter of this story, separated from Chapter 5 by way too many years. I apologize for that. Life happens I guess. But now it's time to finish this. It's best if you read the first five chapters.)

Susan was too spent to answer the phone. She could hardly move after so much fucking. Her tits heaved up and down with her exhausted breathing. Her nipples were still diamond hard and the smell of her cunt was strong and intoxicating.

It wasn't an unfamiliar sight. Susan had evolved into a hotwife over the past 15 years and over time the sexual escapades had developed into a wild lifestyle of motels and hotels. She hadn't worked, nor had she needed to. I made good money and numerous of her partners bought her gifts and had even given her money and taken her on extended vacations. But she didn't consider herself a whore, despite the multiple partners and various forms of remuneration. She was in it for the thrill and the orgasms.

 It was the landline phone, that night after Randy and William had fucked her so well, so it could have been anyone, or most likely a wrong number at that hour.

I was naked and coated in Susan's juices and the cum from two massive Black cocks that had squelched out of her pussy to cover my groin and thighs. But I swung over her prone form and grabbed the handset from the nightstand.

"Hello," I gasped, still recovering from the last five minutes of franticly fucking her slack hole. She'd been fucked by two giant Black cocks before I got my turn in her and I'd just shot my load. Susan, cum dripping out of her pussy, looked up at me and mouthed 'who is it'.

I shrugged as I waited for a reply.

"It's me. Shit hit the fan with the Denson Project. Pack a bag for a week at least. Bring your laptop. I'll be there in 10," said my boss. "We got a flight in less than an hour."

He hung up.

I stared at the receiver in my hand trying to comprehend and process what he'd just said. I had a naked, well-fucked wife on the bed who was still playing with her tits and pussy as I explained I had to leave. I had two giant Black men with giant cocks downstairs drinking my liquor after fucking my wife. And I had to shower fuck juice off me and be dressed, packed, and downstairs in nine minutes.

I quickly explained to Susan and ran for the shower. I was drying off and dressing in two minutes and had a bag packed in two more minutes. Susan was downstairs pandering to William and Randy, naked and dripping and being fondled by giant hands. It was like my plight was just an interruption in her amazing orgasmic evening. She was trembling from the sexual fervor that was running through her body, hormones and oxytocin and adrenaline. Later she admitted she wasn't really comprehending what was happening.

"I knew you were going somewhere and I knew these two men were staying and I was going to be fucking again," she told me much later. "That was all that mattered. The Black cocks. I'd never experienced anything like it. I was just waiting for you to leave so I could get back upstairs and in bed and them get on me and in me."

William later told me when they'd taken a break from fucking her, she asked where I was, surprised I wasn't there begging for my turn.

"She seemed relieved you weren't there," he said. "That's when she told us you were a real cuck and got off more on being denied her pussy than being granted access to it. She said you loved the 'exquisite anguish' of being told no, or being told to jerk off while she and her partner of the moment watched."

It was true. I'd jerked off countless times just when I was at the height of my arousal after watching Susan fucking and orgasming for what seemed like ever. They'd watch me shoot my pent up load into the toilet, knowing the release would immediately deflate my arousal and turn that desire of the moment before into jealousy that I was not allowed in her pussy. It was like a little ritual, her marching me to the bathroom and making me stroke my cock while she told me how useless it was and how great the guy fucking her that night was.

"It doesn't seem like something a real man would do," William allowed. "I mean what is it? You really know your white cock and runny sperm is inferior?"

Even so, William subsequently allowed me to provide input and shape the direction Susan was going. And he sought me out often for my opinion. There were psychological issues I understood, and with Eugene, we were able to evaluate, tweak, adjust so she was moving forward in steadily rising sexual directions that took her from one extreme to the next. A little at a time so she was able to normalize things as she went. They were devious, and I guess I was too. The things we did.

That feeling of not being alive without a Black cock in her pussy is a mantra Susan's repeated a hundred times since. "When I'm not being fucked by a Black man I'm not a complete person," she'd say.

My cock? She called it an embarrassment.

"I'm sorry Jack. But what do you expect? You made me into this," she'd say. "At one time I was just an ordinary wife. An ordinary woman. You turned me into a Black cock whore freak. I'm a fuck freak. I can't stop. I do almost anything for Black men. And I love being like this, and hate it. But one thing's for sure, I'll never be anything else. I'm reparation for Black slavery. It's what I am, so I get fucked hard."

That was later. She said that much later when her path was set, she'd done unimaginable things, and there was no turning back, and a man from Ethiopia had spent an entire night fucking her. He didn't even speak English but they understood each other quite well. His African sperm was deep inside her and she elevated her hips to keep it inside her as long as she could.

She'd been reading about the new research on telegony and sperm being absorbed into her body through vaginal tissue.

"That was the Blackest man I've ever fucked," she said, her numerous orgasms having depleted her energy. "He likes me. He's really, really rich. His interpreter told me he wants me to visit Ethiopia."

The interpreter told me his employer wanted to buy Susan and take her to the Dark Continent for breeding purposes. Middle six figures. Of course she was worth more than that.

She had become the thing she would always have become eventually. Her evolution from innocence of a teen to the wanton whore that she is today was all predictable from early on. Thinking back, I see that nothing would have stopped it.

"Doug will be here any second," I said that night as the two big men grinned at the prospect of having my wife all to themselves and me not being able to do anything about it. And I was now finding my laptop and cords and putting them in a laptop bag. Cum still dripped out of my wife and she seemed oblivious to what was happening.

"I could be gone for a week," I said to her. "You gonna be okay? I'll text you when we land."

She nodded, now leaning back against William, a dreamy look on her face, with his big hands playing with her tits. She was in her element. This was what she lived for. Unbridled sex. She was a little plaything. A sex toy. The carnal desires of two Black men the size of NFL defensive backs would be realized in the body of a tiny white woman either one of them could pick up with one hand and with little effort.

"We'll make sure she's okay," William smiled. "Me and Randy will just tuck her in and make sure she's comfortable. There's a lot of use left in her tonight, Jack. That okay with you?"

Her eyes were pleading and her body was rubbing back and forth against William who was still naked and had a rising rod that matched Randy's as the two men realized the potential for the rest of the night, and indeed the entire next week. And she didn't need my  approval. I was a cuck and she'd fuck whenever and wherever. She always did what her bulls told her to do.

She had a cock in each hand now, and they weren't soft anymore. Her hands looked tiny.

"You really don't have much choice," Randy said, nodding at the window as my wife began to stroke him. I saw drool emanate from the corner of her mouth. "Car's here."

Doug was outside and started beeping the horn.

I quickly gave her a kiss, her naked form now undulating from William's ministrations.

"Remember, you have to tell me everything," I whispered, dropping my car keys on the stool that still sat in the middle of the room with Beth's juices drying on it. "No holding back."

She nodded. It was our agreement that she would tell me every little detail of her sexual encounters. And mostly I think she did. At least the encounters I knew about.

My hand ran down her body and then I was running for the door.

The last thing I heard was my wife moaning.

"Ooohhhhh, OH MY GOD YESSSS," she yelped as fingers slid into her. "OH MY FUCKING GOD!"

"We've got a week to break her in," I heard Randy say. "She's gonna be popular. Maybe she'd be better as a Black cock whore than Black owned."

"Won't take a week," William replied. "Come on, let's get her back upstairs and on her back. She'll go all night, mark my words."

I took a minute to grab a pair of boots and a jacket from the porch and tucked them under my arm. I heard feet going up the stairs as I slammed the door and struggled with my arms full out to the road. Doug popped the trunk and I dumped my stuff in.

"You got company," Doug asked as he pulled away. "Looks like some expensive car there."

"Ah, yes, well Susan's, um cousin stopped by earlier," I improvised. "We'd been up having a few drinks and talking is all. "

I could almost see Doug frown in the dark car.

"Hmmm," he said.

"What?" I replied.

"Your bedroom light was on and I kind of thought I saw people in there, is all," Doug said.

"Yeah, well, just cousins catching up, I guess," I lied. "You phone in the middle of the night and all hell breaks loose. I guess she's explaining all the excitement."

It was thin. I knew Doug wasn't buying it, but he let it go.

For the next 10 minutes he explained the Denson Project fiasco and what we needed to do to smooth things over and get it back on track before investors started backing out.

I sat there in the departure lounge as horny and hard as I could ever remember. I knew my wife was either on her back with her legs spread, or on her hands and knees taking cock from both ends. Regardless, Black cock would be in her fertile body and I tried to think back to remember if I saw her take her pill that morning before all this started with William.

I thought back to the beginning when we first met. She was 19, beautiful, built, sexy, and sought after by every man who met her. You looked at her and thought sex. She was hit on. She was given drinks and joints and every guy tried to get her into bed. And many managed through manipulation and booze and pot and her own innate constant state of arousal.

When I met her, she was literally being bounced back and forth among a half dozen men. She was something to fuck. They took turns going out with her and they took turns fucking her. If you saw her at the local pub, she might be with three guys, and at the end of the evening she'd go home with one or other of them, spend the night fucking and then it would be somebody else's turn. They'd consciously decide whose turn it was next.

When I met her, I didn't know any of this. I'd seen her at a bar and invited myself to sit down at her table and ended up in her bed devouring the most amazing pussy I'd ever seen or tasted. And, like those other guys, I was addicted immediately.

A few nights later I went up to her apartment and knocked on the door. A guy answered and let me in. There were three other guys all sitting on the sofa or an armchair. The TV was on. I asked where Susan was and one guy just inclined his head towards the bedroom door. I thought she was getting ready to go out. None of us said anything.

Twenty minutes later the bedroom door opened and a guy walked out buckling his belt. In the background Susan was standing naked by the bed with a t-shirt in her hand wiping the mess from between her legs. She seemed unconcerned that she was visible and soon jumped in the shower and came out sexily dressed and ready to go out drinking.

I never found out if it was just the one guy who fucked her that night or if they had taken turns. Nobody said anything. We went to the pub and by the end of the evening I was the only one left as the other guys all peeled off and went their separate ways.

In the coming weeks and months, I continued to visit and fuck her, as did the others. Seven of us, if I remember right. She seemed to always be horny and ready. But after a while it seemed I was the only guy left and we seemed to be a couple. I moved in and eventually we got married.

But all the while I couldn't stop thinking of all the guys who'd fucked her and all the countless ones I didn't know about. And she seemed to have adapted to just one partner and we had unbelievable sex. Fuck sessions that went for hours and hours. She couldn't get enough. Nor could I.

About two years in, I started having fantasies about her exhibiting herself in public, and eventually convinced her to wear skimpy outfits, or see-through dresses, or skirts and no panties. And she did it, albeit reluctantly at first. And then she would go further at my prompting. We'd go to nearby towns or cities and she'd try on shoes wearing short skirts or dresses and no panties, getting the male clerks to help her try on shoes and boots. I'd go in separately and watch as she teased them, flashing her pussy with its big, open lips and the promise of heaven. Her pussy would begin to moisten, and then to drip.

We'd go to bars in nearby towns with her dressed in revealing clothing and almost always without panties or bra. She was hit on constantly in those situations, and felt up frequently. It got to the point that these escapades were making her increasingly horny and wet, a major contrast to her original reluctance. She'd want to go out instead of me imploring her to. She'd choose skimpier outfits.

It wasn't me prodding her, it was her wet and horny as we dressed to go out. It was her breathing that was ragged as she walked into a bar turning heads and becoming the focus of 50 guys' attention.

And then it finally led to us planning for her to get picked up. When it happened, and she got fucked hard by a total stranger, it blew her mind. Her vivid description of it, and her wet and dripping pussy expelling some stranger's cum, blew my mind. It happened again a month later. And then a week later. Different bars, different towns, different men.

The men always paid for the motel room, would fuck her for entire nights, me sleeping in the car in a parking lot and picking her up often as the sun was rising and take her home, and if I was lucky, get to fuck that messy, swollen hole. Usually not, because she was beyond tired. Beyond fucked. She fucked a lot and if I got to take part, it was only once in maybe 20 or 30 times.

When a few of her conquests started calling her and having repeat fuck sessions, it was the beginning of her having regular extramarital sex partners. Of course she eventually started calling them her bulls and me her cuck. She'd talk about her sessions now with great enthusiasm, not her previous descriptions just to fill me in on how they fucked her, how often, if they came in her. Now she gushed about how great it was and little digs at my manhood and abilities started to show up.

"If I'd known there were bigger cocks out there, well, I'm not really sure how things would have turned out between us," she'd say, intentionally trying to hurt her little cuck. "Dave's eight inches, and you've seen how he makes me cum. My god that was an intense orgasm I had last night. Remember?"

Before long I was asked to eat Dave's cum out of her, and then one night I was sucking Dave hard because he'd already cum in her twice and wanted to ride her again. That became commonplace. It's amazing how quickly a person can normalize what was once considered taboo or forbidden.

So I became her sexual servant. The one who made it easier and more comfortable for her to get fucked by others. "Can you park Brad's car," she might say. Or "we need more wine, could you run  out and pick something up? That place across town?" Or "George forgot to pick up his laundry, could you drop by? Here's the ticket. It's just that by the time we're done in the bedroom the place will be closed."

I brought drinks. I changed sheets. I filled the bathtub for them. I prepared meals so when they were done the food would be ready. I was the alibi for unfaithful husbands. I accepted hand jobs when Susan was too tired or uninterested in letting me have sex with her after hours of sex with one of her pickups or bulls.

"I know it hurts," she once said. "But your sexual needs aren't really my priority anymore. I just spent six hours in bed with a guy. The least you could do is jerk off instead of whining about your little pecker getting left out"

In truth, my cock wasn't little. It was a bit above average, but she was now servicing the cream of the crop, the guys with small cocks getting the heave-ho and the bigger ones invited to stick around. Natural selection at work. Dave was one of those who stuck around, and he was the only one who seemed to have any compassion for me. He was a fat eight inches, and was soon my wife's main sex partner, spending many nights fucking her for hours on end in our marital bed while I slept on the couch or in a spare room.

That night while Doug and I were waiting to board the plane, Susan was in our marital bed with Randy and William tag-teaming her. One would fuck her until she came and then pass her over to the other guy who would fuck her until she came again.

"I don't remember much," she said much later as she tried to describe that week. "I think they came a few more times, but I was really out of it from the wine and Randy lit a joint. I just remember cuming and cuming and it being so wet down between my legs."

She woke up late in the morning and the two giant Black men were gone, just drying cum on the sheets and her still swollen and tingling pussy to convince her it was all real. Her groin muscles hurt from her legs being spread so wide. And she had a headache from drinking.

She showered, and while it woke her up some, it didn't do much to diminish that feeling between her legs and the image of those big Black cocks sliding into her slippery and eager cunt. She dried off and threw on a short, thin robe. Just the thought of what she did the night before horrified her and made her hornier than ever at the same time.

"I'd been fucked eight or 10 times by Black guys and came so much I passed out," she said. "I should never have done it and vowed that was the end of it. Never again. I was all set to message William. But I was so horny I started playing with my pussy and in seconds was vowing to message him about coming back that night."

In the kitchen, she made coffee but couldn't face food right away. Her cunt was still swollen and her pussy lips were thick and elongated from big cocks pulling them out with every reverse thrust. Her juices were flowing and her fingers were sticky with her own lubricating fluid. Her body was demanding to be fucked.

She sat at the table, those pussy lips hanging open and her puffed mound red and tingling. She was upset that she was so horny. She couldn't believe that sex could reach a much higher plateau than she had ever imagined.

"I think I came more in that 24 hours than I had in the past two years," she said, not realizing that the comment could be hurtful. "Orgasms that last two, three minutes and are so powerful I thought I was having seizures? I didn't know it was possible. And then to have another one a few minutes later? Oh. My. God."